About Me

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Last year, my
publisher Ignatius Press took a risk in publishing not one, but two
personal conversion stories* - Something Other Than God
by Jennifer Fulwiler and Not God's Type
by Holly Ordway. One reason this was risky is that conversion
stories are an iffy genre. Sometimes the “story” takes a back
seat to the “conversion”, and they end up as poorly written
tales. Or they can be ponderous, too heavy to enjoy, or cloying and
syrupy.

Fortunately,
these books avoided these pitfalls. Though the authors write from
different backgrounds, they're both able storytellers who produce
exceptionally readable works in their own distinctive styles. Both
begin from total atheism, but Jen Fulwiler's tale traverses ground
that may be more familiar to most readers, involving family, career,
and the like. Holly Ordway's account involves academia and fencing
competition(!). But far from being heavy or syrupy, they both
go down like a pint of
Strongbow
– dry, crisp, and refreshing.

Dr. Ordway's book
pulled me in from the first pages. Her youth sounded so much like
mine that I felt I'd found a soul sister. I, too, was a nerdy,
solitary youngster who retreated into literary worlds. I sojourned
with Mole and Rat, as well as Mowgli and Bagheera (who Dr. Ordway
doesn't mention, but I'd be surprised if she didn't visit them
occasionally), and – of course – Narnia, as well as Middle Earth
in time (high school years for me). So though our external life
circumstances differed, I felt like we were citizens of the same
literary countries.

One thing that
especially appealed to me from Dr. Ordway's account was that she
valued honesty over comfort – a stand that, ironically, would come
back to bite her as the Hound of Heaven drew nearer. But in her early
adulthood she considered Christianity irrelevant not primarily out of
scorn or disdain, but from a desire to be honest, and not hunt for
what she perceived as an “easy out” from the difficulties of
life. This made me stop and ponder. My faith history has exposed me
to rigorous Christian thinkers like Lewis, Schaeffer, and Kreeft, but
that's unusual even for a Catholic. I need to remember that some who
reject Christianity are working from the best position they can
muster given what they know – sometimes at great personal cost.
Such understanding doesn't come easily to me. I'm more likely to
bristle defensively or withdraw from someone who is firm in their
unbelief, rather than try to engage them honestly.

One example of
one who managed this type of engagement well was Holly's fencing
coach Josh. The sturdy Bardia of this face-seeking tale, Josh was a
committed Christian who was also committed to excellence in his
craft. He meets his student Holly in honesty and mutual respect –
even though he probably quickly discerned that she didn't respect his
faith. He didn't withhold acceptance from her, nor did he make his
dealings with her predicated upon her changing to suit him. He
responded to her intellectual and moral integrity with integrity of
his own. Above all, he was patient. He related to her as a person,
not as an evangelization project. He trusted to God to work in His
way and His time, knowing that even He respected Holly's choices.

This was very
helpful to me, and an example I will probably return to ponder again
and again. In my impatience, I am far too prone to want to see
observable (by me) “progress” when I'm trying to help someone
toward or in the Faith. Josh's example of being a helpful and
available friend reminds me that when it comes to the Gospel, we
are the message – not so much our arguments or answers or
persuasiveness, but our relating to everyone we meet with dignity and
respect (not that arguments and answers don't have their place.) Some
might say that Josh “brought Holly to Christ”, but I suspect he
wouldn't put it that way. He was simply responding to honesty with
honesty, and integrity with integrity, answering her questions and
letting the Holy Spirit do the bringing.

In
one sense, the story has a “happy ending”, with Holly coming not
just to Christ but all the way home to the Catholic Church. But
before we Catholics get all triumphalist about this, we need to
honestly consider the implications of a conversion such as this. Here
is a woman who traveled an unusual road at great personal cost.
Certainly there is room in the Church for her – but would there be
a place in the average parish? Given her history, parish life would
be an alien environment. Expecting her to “find her niche” amidst
the usual array of parish offerings would be wasteful of her talents
and insensitive to her needs. How would one respond to such
passionate integrity and truth-seeking? With a place on the Funeral
Luncheon Committee? These are questions we need to grapple with if
we're serious about reaching the dark and broken culture around us
with the light of Christ. If we're wise, we'll listen carefully to
people like Holly Ordway regarding how to welcome passionate
converts.

Above
all, I found Not God's Type
to be both challenging and refreshing. I recommend it highly, not
just as a good personal story but as an instructive tale for anyone
who takes the New Evangelism seriously. Holly took a risk herself,
laying bare some of the most personal details of her life, but it is
the reader who reaps the benefits. Travel beside her as she discovers
to her delight that she, too, is Psyche.

*They
also took a risk publishing my book, but that was a different sort of risk.